The English Dictator
by Muggledog
Summary: Harry's parents are alive. Hermione's parents are abusive. The Weasleys remain fundamentally the same. Aunt Petunia is good. Voldemort does not exist. Is there a threat to the Wizarding world? Yes. What is it? Read to find out. AU HG & Hr/OC
1. Chapter 1

The English Dictator

Chapter One

As the sun rose, lighting up the bedroom of a fancy house, a little eight year old girl rose with it. She and her parents had just come to Southend-on-Sea from London where her parents were successful dental practitioners, who had decided to move out of the city, and move their practice to a more scenic area. She could well remember how excited her parents were.

"Look at this, Wilma," her father had exclaimed over his typical coffee and newspaper routine he had in the morning, "the dentistry offices in Southend-on-Sea have shut down, and there are requests for new practitioners to take up where they left off. I'd say this is the moment we've been waiting for. What do you say?"

"It sounds good to me, dear," the girl's mother had replied in a bored tone.

"Girl!" Her father bellowed over his shoulder, "your mother and I are going out today. I want the car spotlessly cleaned before we leave, is that clear?"

For that was how the girl was treated by her parents. Ever since an event when she had been in Kindergarten—an event no one could properly explain-she had somehow managed to make objects fly around the room to help distract bullies so she could make a getaway—she had been less her parents' child than a menace and a nuisance, and they forbid her to appear anything less than normal, for the Grangers hated anything and everything that wasn't completely normal, and to have anything even slightly extraordinary was a matter of the deepest shame.

And their daughter, Hermione Elizabeth Granger, was about as far from normal as you could get.

She was about to find this out today, though she did not know it. She slipped into the shower and awaited her father's usual call.

"Girl! Get down here and fix us all breakfast!" Hermione's father, Dr. Russell Owen Granger called.

"Yes, sir," Hermione responded, finishing with her towel. She located one of the suits her mother had bought and indicated that she was to use for breakfast only, dressed and entered the kitchen. It was not unusual for her parents to not even bother saying good morning.

"Don't burn the eggs like you did last time," her mother, Wilma Valerie Granger said, not taking her eyes off her gossip rag magazine.

"Yes, mother," Hermione responded meekly.

"And if there is any _funny stuff _from you while you are making breakfast, you won't get any," Russell Granger added.

"Yes, sir."

After breakfast, Russell Granger promptly ordered his daughter to go back up to her room and change into her school uniform. Hermione obeyed, actually feeling excited for once. Hermione loved school. It was a sanctuary from her parents, but even more importantly, it was a place for learning. She never made many friends, as her father discouraged what he called overly forwardness, and in the end, did it matter? She loved to learn…or at least, that was what she told herself.

"Hermione Elizabeth! Get down here, young lady, or you will miss the bus, and we don't want to burden your mother with driving you, do we?"

Goodbye, Russell Granger-style.

------

Hermione knew her parents would not care if she stayed out after school a bit; she always did while they still lived in London, and frequented a park that was almost exactly in between her school and her house, and she was lucky enough to find one here in her new town.

The park consisted of a play area with swings, little climbing walls and monkey bars, and a short observatory tower facing the sea, with a fake telescope, where you could play that you were watching for pirates, and seats surrounding the play area where parents could keep their eyes on their children.

Hermione climbed up to the observatory tower and stood there, silently observing the playground. She watched enviously as kids frolicked around, chased either by their friends or their parents. _Why won't my parents play with me?_ Hermione thought sadly, _It wouldn't hurt them, would it?_ Another voice answered, _you know that what your parents are doing is for your own good. Yes, and I know they're right, but it doesn't feel…right. But it is, Hermione Elizabeth, it is. Yes, yes, I know._ She didn't notice a man with playful blue-grey eyes sit down on the bench and observe her. The only thing she did notice was that a solitary tear was fighting to get off her eyelash, and she furiously wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

------

Sirius Black sat down on the park bench in front of the observatory tower to wait for his godson and nephew, Harry Potter, to come home from school, as he had agreed to pick him up. Harry had not yet come to the tower, though he had promised, and Sirius was a bit worried. He had no children, as Harry was his best friend and brother-in-law's son, and he was not good at this whole father thing the way James Potter was, even though he knew from the moment Harry was born that he loved children, and wanted to have some with his wife, Juliana Hart Black (nee Potter).

Sirius' attention, however, was drawn to a young girl, appearing to be about eight years old, making her about Harry's age, as she scaled up the observatory tower and looked around. He observed her as she watched the other children in the park, her already sad eyes becoming progressively more saddened. As he observed her wiping her eyes, his heart went out to the crying child. He could not explain why, but the girl mystified him, as well as made him sad and uncomfortable, and Sirius wondered what the poor girl had done to make her look so longingly at the other families. He had just resolved to go speak to the girl when he felt a tugging on his sleeve. He looked down to see his nephew smiling up at him.

"Hello there, Pronglet!" Sirius said, hugging his nephew.

"Hi, Uncle Padfoot," Harry responded, "was that Hermione you were looking at?"

"Do you mean that little girl?" Sirius asked, nodding in Hermione's direction.

"Yeah, she's new in class. She seems nice, but she won't say a word to anyone unless the teacher calls on her to answer a question."

"She must be shy."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "I hope I can get to know her, though, she looked so nice, but she also looked lonely." Sirius could not explain why, but Harry's statement had left him with a lump in the region of his Adam's apple. Yes, the little girl, Hermione if that was her name, looked very lonely. Sirius looked down at his nephew.

"You should try to talk to her, Harry," he said seriously. Harry nodded.

"Okay, tomorrow?" Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, see if you can speak to her during class." Harry nodded again.

"Okay," he repeated, "now can we go home? I'm hungry." Sirius laughed out loud. There was no question that Harry and James both loved food. Sirius took Harry's hand, and led him over to a protected clump of bushes where they apparated away to Harry's house.

They arrived to see the beaming face of Lily Evans Potter, Harry's mother, staring at them from the kitchen window. Her face soon disappeared and she came out the door.

"Harry, my sweetheart!" Lily called happily, striding towards Harry and Sirius, "I missed you so much! How was school?" She hugged him tightly, and ignoring a protesting squeal, lifted him up into her arms, kissing him on the forehead.

"Put me down, Mum!" Harry said in good-natured indignation. Chuckling, Lily obeyed.

"So, how was school?" Lily asked again.

"It was bo-oring!" Harry replied in an over-exaggerated drawl, "why do I have to learn all of this Muggle stuff? I wanna go to Hogwarts!"

"Now, now, Harry, it's important that you take your Muggle education seriously. You can learn as much here as you will when you go off to Hogwarts, and besides, Muggle education is important. I'm afraid that they do not truly teach you anything in Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, and besides, what if you marry a Muggleborn witch?"

"She's not Muggleborn," Harry replied in what he hoped was an offhand voice. Lily and Sirius exchanged looks and tried not to laugh. Both had noticed the close friendship Harry shared with the daughter of their friends Molly and Arthur Weasley, Ginevra.

"Or at the very least," Lily said, "you'll do your old mum proud if you take your Muggle education seriously." They had reached the door of the house.

"Is that my mini-Prongs?" Harry's father, James Potter boomed, "missed you, Snitch."

"James Mark Potter, you keep your voice down when you are indoors, sir!" Another voice scolded him. "Hello, Harry." Juliana Black said, stepping up beside her brother.

"How was your day, love?" Lily asked James, stepping up beside him.

"Nothing exceptional, except that Dobbs, from the Registry of Wizards Office told me that there apparently is a new magical signature in this area, but as far as I know, no other wizard has moved into the Glen, although I noticed a Muggle newspaper that a new dentist, a Dr. R. Owen Granger, moved into the old building left behind by Dr. Wilhelm Stephen, but I can't see these things as being linked. I mean, it's always possible, but…" James said. He worked as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic, in the Muggleborn Warlock Services branch. The MWS was primarily responsible for assuring the safety and legal representation of all Muggleborn witches and wizards in the Registry, and James worked closely with Dobbs, head of the Registry, and Arthur Weasley, head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.

"I also heard about that," Sirius said, who also worked in the Ministry as an Obliviator, "Harry, you didn't by any chance hear that new girl Hermione's last name do you?"

"Er…I think the teacher may have said it, and I'm pretty sure it _was _Granger…" Harry replied uncertainly. The adults shared a look.

"Do you think Arthur would forgive us if we change our plans for dinner tonight?" James asked.

"I think he'd understand, it's Molly I'm not so sure about," Juliana responded, "you know how much she likes these get-togethers."

"Are you suggesting that this girl Hermione may be a Muggleborn witch?" Sirius asked. James shrugged.

"Of course, we should meet them anyway," Lily said, "as we were patients of Dr. Stephen—we're going to need a new dentist."

"I'll make the calls," James volunteered.

------

Hermione returned home at a quarter to four, the curfew set by her father and timidly knocked. To go directly into a house, even your family's was disrespectful, and Russell Granger had forbidden his daughter to be disrespectful.

"Good afternoon, father, how was your day?" Hermione asked softly.

"My day was very good, thank you, and how was school Hermione Elizabeth?"

"It was very nice, thank you, sir," Hermione replied. "Good afternoon, mother," she added, seeing Wilma Granger sitting at her usual place at the table reading yet another gossip magazine.

"Good afternoon, daughter," Wilma Granger replied coolly. Just then, the phone rang, and Hermione, as per custom, answered it.

"Grangers' residence, this is Hermione, who do I have the pleasure of addressing?" On the other end of the line, James Potter shuddered at the sweet, soft, musical, yet eerily polite and sad voice of the young girl answering his call.

"Miss Hermione, I'm James Potter. I hear you go to school with my son, Harry."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, Harry is a very nice boy," Hermione replied politely.

"You should see some of the stuff he does over at our house," James said chuckling, "might alter your perceptions of him a bit." Hermione heard Harry in the background say "Da-ad!" "Sorry, Pronglet," James replied, laughing. "Anyway, Hermione, I was wondering if I might speak with your father."

"Certainly, Mr. Potter," Hermione said like a baby receptionist, "please hold the line for one moment," she put down the receiver and walked over to her father, "sir, a Mr. Potter would like to speak to you." Russell Granger nodded, and walked over to the phone.

"Russell Granger," he said.

"Dr. Granger, this is a pleasure. James Potter, my son, Harry, goes to school with your daughter."

"Indeed, I was not informed," Russell replied casually.

"Technically, Harry didn't tell us anything either," James said chuckling, "he told my brother-in-law instead! Anyway, Dr. Granger, my wife and I would very much like to have you and your family over for dinner tonight at eight, so we can get to know you."

"We shall be delighted," Russell said in an oily voice, "we'll see you at eight." And he hung up.

"Hermione Elizabeth!"

"Yes, father?"

"You did not tell me about having a friend at school," Russell said in a cold voice, "what have I told you about being overly forward? Answer me!"

"I should not draw attention to myself," Hermione recited, "children are to be seen but not heard in the presence of family and peers. To do so is arrogant, presumptuous and greedy."

"Very good, Hermione Elizabeth, that is correct. And what have I told you about lying to your father?"

"That lying to one's father shows—"

"Forget it. I trust you know this and will continue to apply these rules?"

"Yes, sir." Russell responded by slapping Hermione hard across the face.

"That was for being overly forward," he said, and roughly took hold of the helpless girl's left arm, turned it over, and slapped her hard on the wrist.

"And that's for lying to me. You should get more, but I'm in a lenient mood today. Now listen closely, Hermione Elizabeth. We are going to the Potters' for dinner. I will call for you when we are ready. Except to freshen up, you are to remain in your room, and think long and hard about being overly forward and lying. When we are at the Potters', I expect you to be dressed in your best, be on your best behavior, and there is to be absolutely _no funny stuff_!! If you show any of your abnormalities, you shall not have any food or drink the rest of the week. Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes, sir."

"Then go."

------

James Potter had quickly disabled the spells on his house that prevented Muggles from seeing it, so that the Grangers would be able to find them. Dr. Granger had hung up before James could give them the appropriate address, and he and Lily had fretted about it. Juliana had been the one to pass at the top of her year in Muggle Studies at Hogwarts—which simply meant she knew more than the teacher—and had reasoned that since James and Lily had listed the address in the Muggle phonebook, that the Grangers could find their way to the house. James had been uncertain, knowing that while his family referred to Southend-on-Sea as 'The Glen' referring to Godric Glen, the wizarding village located within Southend-on-Sea, where James' home, Potter Manor was, Godric Glen was a place no Muggle should know about. Even though their house was protected by an invitation ward, meaning that, in theory, any person, Muggle or magical, who had been invited to the house would be able to see it if anyone had temporarily deactivated the ward—and James had, at the same time he removed all the other protective spells on the house, save a select few that didn't matter to Muggles; only wizards knew that the spells were in place should they see the house—but James and Lily had not tested whether the invitation ward would work or not, as the only Muggles to ever frequent the place were Lily's parents and her sister and brother-in-law, and Lily had taught them all to floo in. James sighed, hoping everything worked right.

At a quarter to eight, there was a sharp knock on the door and James had his answer. He sighed with relief and went to answer the door.

"Dr. Granger, I presume?" James said, trying not to show his discomfort eyeing the man who stood imposingly on his doormat, and extending his hand, "James Potter. Won't you please come in?"

"Thank you," Russell Granger replied in a detached manner and stepped in, followed by his wife and daughter.

"Dr. Granger, I would like you to meet my wife Lily Evans Potter, our son Harry, my sister Juliana, and her husband and my—scratch that—our best friend, Sirius Black," James said, indicating each respective person.

"This is my wife, Wilma and our…daughter, Hermione Elizabeth," Russell Granger replied. The two families shook each others' hands. Wilma Granger, James noted, had a very 'wet-fish' handshake, and her smile did not reach her eyes, which were cool and calculating.

Juliana, on the other hand, had at once noticed the pause when Russell Granger had addressed Hermione as his daughter. It was almost like he was ashamed to admit that he was related to her, but Juliana was completely lost. One look at Hermione, who was obviously very shy, as she was trying very hard, and with no success, to make herself inconspicuous, and Juliana fell completely in love with the precious little thing.

"Hello, Hermione," Juliana said kindly, "how are you doing?"

"I…I'm very well, thank you very much, Mrs. Black." Juliana chuckled.

"Please, Hermione, call me Juliana. No one's called me Mrs. Black since I was married to that mutt…I mean, Sirius."

"Hey!" Sirius called from where he was setting the table with Harry, "I can hear you!"

"Sorry!" Juliana called back, teasing Sirius. "Would you like a tour?" Juliana said, turning back to Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione responded, "that would be lovely, Mrs. Black."

"It's Juliana!" Juliana replied, laughing. Hermione nodded, but Juliana was quick to note how her eyes traveled to her father in a terrified way, glancing at him as he and her mother made idle talk with James. Juliana frowned to herself, but said nothing, and offered her hand to Hermione. Hermione shrunk away from her hand, looking terrified and a tad bit sad. Juliana's heart broke at the sight, wondering what in the name of Merlin would make such a sweet little girl so shy.

"Hermione, I'm not going to hurt you," Juliana said softly.

"I…I'm sorry, Mrs. Black, I…I think I had better stay here." Juliana was now very confused, but she was saved the need to answer, as just then Lily called out that dinner was ready. Everyone ran to the dining room. Juliana chuckled at the longing expressions on her brother and nephew's faces. Everyone began to pick out their seats.

"Hermione Elizabeth, you are between your mother and me," Dr. Granger ordered.

"Please, sir, I'd be honored to have Miss Hermione beside me and my husband," Juliana said, not entirely sure of why she was offering an alternate seating assignment. Dr. Granger looked at first very angry, but seemed determined to make a good impression on the Potters and Blacks present, for he said, very reluctantly,

"Hermione Elizabeth, you may move your chair in between Mr. and Mrs. Black." Hermione did so, and everyone sat down and tucked into Lily's fine cooking.

It was Harry's turn to notice something: conversation during the meal was very forced. He knew that both of his parents, but especially his mother, were very good conversationalists, and it didn't take Lily much to get a flowing, homely conversation going, and with a look, she could gain just about anyone's trust. But tonight, all conversation was very stiff and formal, not to mention uncomfortable, and though Lily was doing everything she could to gain it, the Grangers did not seem willing to trust anybody, and Dr. Granger and his wife remained cool and intimidating. James' offhand remark about old Wilhelm Stephen, the Grangers' predecessor as town dentist didn't help. Harry also noticed his Aunt Juliana's fruitless attempts to get to know Hermione.

"More potatoes, Hermione?" Juliana asked kindly, offering the potato bowl to Hermione.

"Thank you, Mrs. Black," Hermione responded softly. She proceeded to spoon herself a bit of potatoes.

"I think that's quite enough, young lady," Wilma Granger said coolly, as Hermione had placed about a quarter of a spoon of potatoes on her dish—hardly enough to be much bigger than a quarter, "we don't want you to become sick." Juliana looked at Hermione's meager helping and laughed out loud. Normally, Juliana had a very cheerful laugh, which anyone who knew her described as being the most infectious, heartfelt laugh anyone could have now sounded mainly forced, and not nearly cheerful enough to be a true Juliana Black laugh. Even so, she pulled out a much more healthy spoonful of potatoes out of the dish, and began to put it on Hermione's plate, ignoring the totally scandalized, disrespectful looks both of the elder Grangers were throwing at her. Hermione however, had noticed, and terrified, tried to stop Juliana from putting the potatoes on her plate, but didn't succeed, and looked down with horror at the much larger portion now on her plate.

"There you go, love," Juliana said, reaching out to pat Hermione's upper back. However, as she reached in, Hermione flinched, nearly knocking herself into Sirius.

"No! No! Please, Mrs. Black!" Hermione squabbled, as a very light sliver sheen appeared around her body, making it impossible for Juliana to touch her. When Juliana withdrew her hand, the silver sheen slowly died away. The adults, save the Grangers, all traded wondering looks with each other. Even Harry knew what this must mean. Both Hermione's parents looked at her with cold fury written very clearly on their faces, and Hermione paled, hoping against hope that tears were not welling in her eyes. Just then, Juliana cleared her throat nervously.

"Um…Dr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, we…uh…need to speak with your daughter alone for a minute, please."

"Whatever you have to say to Hermione you can say to us," Dr. Granger replied very coldly. Harry even shivered, and Lily gently placed her arms around his shoulders. James stood up and walked over to where Juliana, Hermione and Sirius were sitting.

"I don't know if you'll understand…I mean," James started out uneasily, "you see, I don't work in the right…the right department, but…Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger…er…Hermione is…is a witch. She has magic." James finished nervously.

"Hermione has magic?" Harry asked excitedly, momentarily forgetting his fear, "you mean she'll come with me to…"

"Pronglet," James said warningly, and Harry immediately fell silent at the look he was getting from the Grangers.

No one said anything for a moment that could have been a breath or years long.

"Come on, Juliana," Lily said at last, "we should start cleaning up." Juliana nodded, and the two began clearing everyone's plates, and taking them into the kitchen to be washed.

"We had better be going," Mrs. Granger said to no one in particular, "it is already way past _her _bedtime."

"Indeed," Mr. Granger said, "come, Hermione Elizabeth!" Hermione shuffled over to where her father waited. He roughly took her hand, and due to the stillness of the air, everyone was able to make out the sickening sound of flesh coming down hard on flesh, and Hermione's subsequent whimpers. Beside Lily, Juliana stiffened up, her eyes now glassed over with pure hate. Lily's own hands were shaking as she continued to wash the dishes.

"Don't hurt her!" Harry's panicked and terrified voice rang out.

"I hardly think you're in any position to tell me what to do with her!" Dr. Granger snapped, "let's go!" and so saying, he actually kicked Hermione out the door.

Lily and Juliana stepped out of the kitchen to find James cuddling Harry who was softly crying, and Sirius, who was banging his head on the wall.

"Why did he hurt her, dad?" Harry sobbed, "she didn't do anything, and she's so nice, you should see her at school."

"I know, Snitch, I know," James whispered soothingly to Harry, wishing that he could say something better, but he was just as unsettled as Harry was.

"I'm going to call Petunia and Chris," Lily declared, coming over and hugging Harry. Petunia was Lily's sister, who had not inherited Lily's magical gifts, and though she had admitted to being jealous and somewhat scared by Lily's abilities, remained very close with her sister, and had married a very nice man, Christophe Laney, a gentle lawyer who specialized in family law. She held Harry tighter. "Shhh, Harry, we're going to do something for Hermione, I promise."

"Uncle Padfoot, stop!" Harry said through his tears, "you're going to hurt yourself."

"He's right, you know," James said, going over to Sirius, "what _are_ you doing, Padfoot?" Sirius turned to face them, tears in his own eyes.

"Why didn't I recognize what was happening? I should've known what they were doing to her, I've seen it all…lived through it all…why didn't I see? I should have known…" he moaned hoarsely. Juliana walked up to him and cuddled him, kissing him.

"We _couldn't _have known, Dog-star, we just couldn't," she replied.

------

Upon arriving at their house, Russell Granger immediately sent Hermione to her room. She knew better than to assume he would leave her alone. He would wait a few minutes to let her wallow in her fears, and then come up and prove that everything she feared was going to happen. Sure enough, as soon as she had run through what he might do and say, from the basics to the worst, as though he was reading her mind, her father opened the door and entered, carrying his favorite belt.

"So," he said, sitting down beside her as though to have a father-daughter talk, "you are magical, are you? Is that what all this _funny stuff _is? You're magical. Do you remember what I said about unnaturalness?"

"That unnaturalness is…"

"Don't answer!" Dr. Granger roared, and slapped her hard across the face, "Didn't I specifically state that you were to be on your best behavior tonight and _no funny stuff_?! Well, did I?!" He punched her. She knew that she would have a black eye tomorrow.

"Yes, daddy, you did," Hermione cried out, "I tried, daddy, I really did!"

"Did you?" Dr. Granger said icily, and carelessly turned Hermione over, picked up the belt that he had tossed aside and began to belt her.

"Please, daddy! I tried, I did! Honestly! Please, daddy, don't!"

"Oh, but I must!" Dr. Granger said in an eerily reasonable tone, "you are a child of the devil! I'm trying to help you! You are a bad person, and I must regrettably make things right!"

"Please, daddy! I didn't…" she started, but then seemed to loose her nerve, "I know I'm a bad person, daddy, please, I won't do it again, please, if you'll just let me be! I know I'm bad, daddy, just let me be!" Dr. Granger whipped her two more times and then stopped, untied her, and roughly turned her over onto her raw back.

"You will not eat or drink until I expressly allow you to, you are not to speak to that boy or any of his family, and you are not to leave this room, even for the bathroom. Tomorrow, I shall provide you with a chamber pot. If I find that you have not followed these rules to the letter, you will get much worse. Do I make myself clear, Hermione Elizabeth?"

"Yes," Hermione replied in a tone of pure pain.

"Really," Dr. Granger replied in a skeptical tone, "I think I had better make absolutely certain." And he punched her hard on her chest, knocking the wind out of her, causing Hermione to thrash around for a minute, unable to take a breath to react to the pain. Her father was not done, however, and bent her fingers slowly back until her vision was blurred with black spots, and she wondered if he had broken a couple of fingers, too.

"Now, go to sleep, dear Hermione," he said in a horrible over-honeyed mock fatherly voice, "and do not cry, for you know what happens to little crybabies." He got up and left. True to his word, Hermione did not cry. At least until his footsteps died away, and she had finally gotten her breath back. She tried not to gulp as she took big breaths, her back and chest screaming in protest against the great amounts of air filling her lungs, but at least it felt…sort of good. After a few big breaths, she buried her head in her pillow to muffle the sound and cried, hoping her father would be unable to hear her, and lay down on her stomach.

The sheets were damp with her tears, and to lie on her back stung from the belt, but to lie on her stomach hurt too, because of where her father had hit her. How could she not cry? As she rocked herself to sleep, the image of Juliana Black's smiling, kind face filled her mind, and as she imagined Juliana rocking her, kissing her and singing her a lullaby, she slowly fell asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know, one hell of a dark, angst-filled start. I apologize in advance, but you will not get a reprieve from dark material in chapter two, in fact, I hope to make it, if possible, darker, but in a very different way, as I plan on introducing the story's bad guy…who will be…can you guess?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Vernon Myles Dursley was no stranger to prisons. Ever since his fateful sophomore year in college, he had been tried, and usually found guilty of all sorts of misdemeanors, and had found himself sentenced to varying amounts of time in prison.

The son of Miles Dursley, a successful businessman and Mary Myla-Dursley, no one who had known the well-tempered, Bach-loving child that he had been would ever have guessed that he could have grown up to be the man that most of society considered a dangerous person, but he had, and it had started in college.

He had fallen for a young lady by the name of Helena, who was a tall, exotic sort of woman, with dark brown hair down to the small of her back, olive skin, and dark, intense eyes, and a killer smile. His love had not been mutual, however, and though he always told his friends he was going out with her, he discovered that a handsome young Russian had been the object of her affections. He had confronted her, claiming, for everyone present to hear, that she had been _his _girlfriend, had slept with _him _and had cheated on _him_. None of it had been true, of course, but it had unnerved the poor girl. That night, he paid her and her boyfriend a visit, held Nikolai at gunpoint and threatened his life, and proceeded to rape Helena mercilessly. Not satisfied, after he had finished with her, he made for Nikolai too, but Nikolai had run for campus security, and had managed to alert them before Vernon decided that Nikolai wasn't deserving of a rape, and unloaded the gun on the poor young man's head at point blank range. Terror and grief gripped the campus the following days, and Vernon was sentenced to two years in jail. His mother and father used their considerable wealth to post bail and bring his sentence down to a year and a quarter.

Vernon had ended up being released two days short of completing his sentence when his father passed away, and it wasn't long before he had faithfully completed his parole and was back living with his mother and back on the streets. His second arrest came when he was found guilty of drug possession, and was sentenced to 500 hours of community service. Not long after, however, he was found dealing drugs to rock celebrity junkies, and sentenced to a year in prison, with an additional charge of robbing from his own mother. Mary Myla, who had dropped the name Dursley after her husband's death again posted bail for her son, but since their main source of income was dry, and Mary Myla was unaware of her son using her money to buy the drugs, she was on the brink of bankruptcy.

His third, and most recent, arrest was a bit of a doubleheader. After completing his sentence, he went back to community life and had proven to be a good actor, taking a job at a Tesco supermarket not far from where he lived, and presenting himself as a respectable community member, even though those who watched the television regularly knew who he was. Nevertheless, he had ended up making friends with a fellow worker who was an attractive, but not exactly sexy young woman who lived with her husband and seven year old daughter. When she and her husband said that they were going on a vacation, he used his newfound ability as an actor to persuade her that he was very good with children and would look after their little girl, swearing that he would not hurt her. He had managed in the beginning at least, to uphold that promise, but on the last day of his tenure as a babysitter, had ended up kidnapping the child while she napped, and took her out into the woods where he first flashed her, then raped her, multiple times, before strangling her. When her parents got back, he was able to smoothly convince them that he was just as upset as they were by the girl's disappearance, and supported them in tracking down the perpetrator of the misdeed. After he had killed the girl, though, he had not done a good job of hiding the body, and her father, who the next day had gone for a walk in the same area Vernon had been, stumbled across the body of his lost daughter. People who debated how bad Vernon was constantly asked if even a man who appeared to have a heart of stone, would have trembled and been remorseful had he been able to see the girl's father weep as he did, cradling and kissing his daughter's corpse, regardless of the fact that her body was starting to show signs of having been dead for nearly 24 hours. The police were able to get sperm samples from the cadaver and match the semen found on the body to that of Vernon, but it wasn't until nearly a week later, when a hunter happened to stumble on Vernon mercilessly raping a twelve year old girl that they were able to catch him. He was sentenced to life in prison, and as he was led away, sneered at the fathers of the two girls, sobbing on each others' shoulders, and fought the impulse to growl at the mothers of the girls, whose grief was beyond tears, and who looked almost soulless. The woman who had worked with him at the Tesco sent him a glare of deepest loathing.

So that was how Vernon, now an inmate at Peterhead Prison, no longer known as Vernon, but as Prisoner 994750 at Peterhead, and 'Jackass' everywhere else, had come to be regarded as one of the most dangerous men in Britain. He shared a cell with a man who looked like a Rastafarian wannabe, and spoke in what was his own mad dialect. 987776 had been busted 17 times on various drug-related charges, and had most recently sodomized a ten year old boy—his nephew no less! But Vernon liked the man. He also came up with ridiculously complex handshakes that he would alter at least two times a day, as a means to say hello.

"Respect!" 987776 called out, waking Vernon up.

"Peace!" Vernon replied, sleepily.

"Dun habdh tuh ghad wukk," 987776 said ("we have to go to work")

"Mm," Vernon replied, noncommittally.

"An hahv a visit'er." ("And you have a visitor")

"Mm." He said again. But Vernon was curious. Who would visit him? His mother had come on occasion, and had again posted bail, pushing herself far over bankruptcy, but his sentence was only reduced by a single day.

"994750!" A guard called out crisply, "you have a visitor. Follow me." Vernon did so, and entered the meeting room. A screen stood in between them, but Vernon knew exactly who it was.

"I see you've hit your fair share of bad times too," Russell Owen Granger said, eyeing Vernon with cold amusement.

"And what in the world could make your day bad?" Vernon said none too warmly, "you were the successful dentist, remember, and I had to be called every swear in the book by…well, just about everybody!"

"How about discovering that the _thing _you thought to be your daughter is, in fact, the reincarnation of pure evil?!" Russell replied, his eyes flashing.

"Ooo, bad little girl, eh?" Vernon said delightedly, "can I put her in her place?"

"Not so fast, mate," Russell said laughing, "but yes, I will let you help me keep the girl in her place. But what I want to talk to you about is much more serious." He glanced around, to see that none of the guards were listening in. "Listen carefully, Vern, you and I have been close for a while now, and I think that with all that's been happening here, and discovering that there are people out there as evil as the girl…"

"How do you know?" Vernon cut him off curiously.

"Our neighbors are also like _her_." Russell said disgustedly. "Now, to continue. Obviously, they're a dangerous sort, and I'll be if our government is doing anything about it, not to mention every other thing that goes wrong around here. I want to instigate some change around here, but we need a new leader. Someone who knows right from wrong, and can deal with what is wrong."

"Who would that be? I was under the impression that each new politician was as corrupt as the old one."

"Isn't obvious? I'm talking about _you_, fool."

"Me?"

"Since when has history proven that fear _didn't _work as a means to motivate a peoples to follow our orders? We'll have Britain eating out of our hands, and we can get rid of the evil beings to whom _she _belongs. You, my friend, are the best fearmonger I've ever known; you'd be perfect."

"Okay, so what do we do then?"

"I use my contacts in the justice system to get you out of here, then we find a place to base our operations. My wife thinks we should do it from our house, but she doesn't understand the delicacies of our operation. We need a place few people would rightfully go. I was thinking of the house your mother got when she paid your last bail."

"And your reason for that is…?"

"Vern, she's two pennies away from living in a homeless shelter. No sane person who isn't as poor as she is would ever go there, so we would have every advantage to plot our schemes undetected."

"Was Mum willing to accommodate us?"

"I've already spoken to her about it, and she said she was delighted. Decent people are so easy to manipulate. I'm glad you weren't one of them, Vern." Vernon replied with three words:

"Let's do it."

Three weeks later, Russell Granger bribed the best lawyers he could find, and Vernon Dursley's release was signed, on the promise that he would serve 2,500 or more hours of supervised community service. Vernon agreed, though he did not understand why Russell Granger appeared delighted at the terms upon which Vernon's release was set upon. Nevertheless, he was happy to bed down that night in a different bed, and felt happy that at long last, he would be doing something to right the wrongs he'd had to live through.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Lily got up long before any of the rest of her family to call her sister.

"Hello?" Petunia said sleepily on the other end of the line. It was only 5:30, Lily realized. Much earlier than she usually would be up, let alone using the phone.

"Tunes, it's Lily," Lily responded.

"If I wasn't three quarters asleep, I'd say you're in a state," Petunia replied, trying to joke.

"I am in a bit of a state, now that you say it," Lily responded earnestly.

"What is it, Lils?" Petunia asked, now concerned. It took Lily the better part of a quarter of an hour to retell the story of the dinner gathering with the Grangers the previous night.

"I'm hoping you and Chris can come over later," she concluded.

"Of course we'll be there," Petunia promised.

------

Breakfast that day was subdued. No one really seemed to want to talk. Oddly enough, the two members of the family who were known chatterboxes—Juliana and Sirius—were the quietest this morning. Harry was never a chatterbox like his aunt and uncle, but nor was he ever silent for as long as he was now. Finally, the clock read 6:45.

"Come on, love, time to apparate," Lily said quietly, and she and Harry gathered up his school stuff and left to apparate to the park so that Harry could go to school. After they had gone, the house became quiet and still. Juliana and Sirius were cuddling on the couch, but still neither said anything. James sat in an armchair, his vision focused intently on the fireplace, when the door opened with a bang, and James and Sirius' other best friend, Remus Lupin came striding towards them, all grins.

"Hey you lot! Got good news, me and…why all the long faces?" James grimly indicated the armchair next to him, and proceeded to tell the story.

------

At school, Harry was more determined than ever to remain true to Uncle Padfoot's instructions that he try to talk to Hermione, but from the moment he stepped into the classroom, it was obvious something was off.

It wasn't out of place that Hermione would try and avoid most people, but there were a few who she seemed comfortable enough to sit by, but she never exactly hung out with anyone. Harry was one of the people who she was fairly close to and often sat beside him if there were no other quiet girls like herself to sit by. It did not go unnoticed by anyone, Harry least of all, that Hermione skirted around and avoided people with a whole new fervor, and the person she avoided most was him, to the point where Hermione actually sat down beside the boy who was her principal bully. Harry saw her face redden, but she did not move, and Harry was hurt. Though he had made up his mind that his heart belonged to Ginny Weasley, he still felt a real kinship with Hermione and wanted to help. He sighed, and sat down, trying to keep his mind on lessons.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Powell, the teacher called out, "would you like to help us with the next problem?" they were on math, which was a subject that Hermione was particularly good at, and she was Mrs. Powell's favorite student because of her eagerness to learn. So when Hermione refused to respond, Mrs. Powell also became worried, unknowingly echoing Harry's fear: _what happened to her? Something is definitely out of order_.

After class, the bully, Turpin, who was the least popular kid (he only got people's respect by fear) and known as Turpentine, looked over at Hermione, who he had mercifully left alone throughout class, turned to her smiling evilly.

"Hey bookwormie, want to go have fun like we did last week?" Harry doubted it would be at all 'fun' if the rumors he had heard were true. It sounded like Turpentine had taken her into the boys' bathroom and stuck her head down one of the foul toilets. It was not understood how Hermione had managed to have survived, if Turpentine had been successful at keeping her head submerged for half an hour as he had boasted to some of his so-called friends.

"_Don't_!" Harry and Mrs. Powell called out sharply at the same time, Harry addressing Hermione, Mrs. Powell addressing Turpin. Because she had barely whispered, neither Harry or Mrs. Powell had heard Hermione respond. But Turpin had.

"O-okay," she whispered, and he marched her forcefully out of the door, his "friends" following, laughing, Harry was pleased to note, in a very forced way.

"Mr. Turpin, get back here now!" Mrs. Powell called, but to no avail. He had already rounded the bend and probably hadn't heard her.

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry timidly asked Mrs. Powell.

"I most certainly hope so," she responded, "I will be informing the Principal about this. Harry, are you okay?" Harry was pale, and his face was definitely downcast.

"I want to be her friend," he explained, hoping his voice was steady, "she seems so nice, but so sad, and last night she came over to my place with her parents for dinner, and she did mag-something that made her dad really mad, and…"

"What happened?" Mrs. Powell asked, noticing that Harry was starting to shake.

"He h-hit her," Harry whispered horrified. Mrs. Powell let out a breath she was not aware of holding and looked vaguely at the back of the classroom.

"Harry do your parents know about this?"

"Yes. My dad and my uncle also saw it."

"Do you think they'd be okay to have me to tea?"

"I think so. My aunt's picking me up at the playground today. You could…er…come along, I guess."

"Thanks, Harry. I really need to know more."

"Y-you're welcome, Mrs. Powell."

------

As Turpentine held her head in the water, all Hermione could think about was that had her father been witness to what was happening, he probably would have approved. She didn't know where the air she was breathing was coming from, as she knew as well as anyone else that humans could not breathe underwater, but she did know that her mother probably wouldn't have spared her a second thought, let alone actually worry about her.

------

"Hello, Harry, love, had a good day at school?" Juliana Black asked as Harry approached her. He shook his head negatively but refused to elaborate. Instead, he introduced Mrs. Powell.

"Aunt Jules, this is my teacher," Harry said bashfully.

"Fiona Powell," Mrs. Powell said, taking over from Harry and formally introducing herself, "so you are Harry's aunt?"

"Yes," Juliana responded, "I'm Juliana Black, Harry's father's sister, and I'm married to Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black. To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?"

"Mrs. Black…er, Juliana…" for Juliana had flinched and her face had darkened at being addressed as 'Mrs. Black', "…I want to meet Harry's parents and discuss a…event Harry told me about that happened last night." Juliana's face darkened further and her eyes narrowed.

"This is about his friend Hermione's pathetic excuses for parents, isn't it?" she said in a low growl.

"Yes, it is, I'm afraid," Mrs. Powell responded grimly.

"Can you two give me just a moment?" Juliana asked heading for the same clump of bushes that Harry and Sirius had hidden behind the previous day to apparate. Once out of the sight of Harry's teacher, she conjured up a note from thin air and banished it to the Potter mansion. It simply read, '_Need car. Muggle visitor coming over, and we can't apparate.—Jules_'

Soon, Juliana returned. Harry had climbed up the play tower and was looking through the telescope, but did not seem very interested in what he was doing. Mrs. Powell had sat down on one of the nearby benches, and also appeared to be lost in her own thoughts.

"Harry's mother will be right over to get us," Juliana declared. Both Harry and Mrs. Powell nodded, but otherwise showed no signs of recognition.

------

It took Lily a bit longer to find the park as she had thought, because she had not counted on the fact that even though she was of Muggle parentage, she had been living so long as a wizard that she barely remembered how to drive, and had she been pulled over by a cop and her husband had not found a very useful little spell, her license would have shown that it had not been renewed since she had first gotten it—when she was sixteen. Nevertheless, though it took her a fair bit longer than if she had apparated, she managed to find the playground, and after Harry and Juliana had introduced Mrs. Powell, the group headed back in silence.

After a much shorter ride home, the group arrived at Potter Manor. Harry, as per custom, bounded in ahead of his mother, Juliana and Mrs. Powell, only today, he did so with much less gusto that was typical of him. When he saw his uncle Christophe, however, he momentarily forgot his troubles.

"Uncle Chris!" He said delightedly.

"Hey, Sheriff," Christophe Laney replied, "Come here." Harry darted forward and embraced his uncle.

"Hi, Aunt Tunes," Harry added, smiling at his music loving (hence her nickname) aunt. She smiled back, as Remus Lupin entered from the kitchen. His eyes scanned the group, and settled on Mrs. Powell.

"Fiona?" He said in disbelief, "you're here?"

"Remy? What in the world…?"

"This is my best friend's house," the bumbling Lupin tried to explain, "and, well, you see, I came over to…you know, tell them…"

"Tell us what, Remus?" Sirius asked from the corner where he had been morosely sitting, no longer morose.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm a dunce," Lupin muttered more to himself than the crowd, "you see, I mean, that is to say, Fiona and I met in the pub a couple weeks ago, and…"

"Let me see if I can expedite this process," Mrs. Powell said grinning, "Remy and I are dating. I confess I had no idea you all knew each other."

"It's about time, Moony!" Sirius said, laughing and patting him on the back. Lupin grinned embarrassed and turned back to Mrs. Powell.

"But what are you doing here anyway?"

"Well, there's this girl in my class that most of us in the school are very concerned about. She and Harry are in my class, and the poor thing is the principal target of the school bullies, but I'm afraid it goes farther than that. I suspect her parents, based a lot on what Harry told me after math today, but also on my observations of how she willingly allows her captors to torment her except in her eyes, are behind this, and I fear it is for worse."

"Indeed," Christophe said, "that's why we're here, too, which reminds me…as I was saying, James," he said, turning back to Harry's father, "this case, as I said, sounds like we could get Miss Hermione's parents in court on charges of abuse easily, and perhaps neglect, however all we have is very circumstantial evidence, and that alone is not enough to convince a jury. We need hard proof if we are to stand a chance of this succeeding, and as of now, I cannot think of any way to accomplish that."

"But we must!" Juliana said fiercely, standing up from the couch where she was sitting, her eyes blazing, "I will not allow Hermione to remain in those wretched people's care! Please," Juliana's tone was desperate now, "From the moment I saw that little angel, I…I get this feeling all over, like I'm the luckiest woman alive…I love her like she was my own daughter…I _want_ her to be my daughter. So, goddammit, just tell me what I have to do!" The ferocity in Juliana's voice had returned, and she did not even seem to notice that she had sworn rather badly, language that Lily fought tooth and nail to not use around Harry.

"I agree," Sirius said in an equally determined voice, "she's like my daughter too, and I want to help her."

"I'll see what I can do," Christophe promised, "I can suggest that you may start by trying to become close to the Grangers, so that at the very least, we can have inside information…"

"Uncle Padfoot!" Harry suddenly cried out, bouncing up and down, "your disguise!"

"Of course!" Juliana said, suddenly excited, "you can observe them as a stray dog!"

"I don't know," Sirius said sadly, "I'm a bit larger than the average dog."

But from the general standpoint of everyone, it was the only plan that seemed like it would produce any results whatsoever.

"Slightly larger than the average dog, eh? Any chance I could see your…disguise?" Christophe said. Petunia chuckled.

"Chris loves dogs, we've got four at home instead of kids." Lily laughed with her sister, but James looked pensively at his brother-in-law.

"Technically, Sirius could demonstrate his ability, but by law we would have to wipe your memories afterwards, as we are not supposed to show such magic as Animagus forms in the presence of Muggles. And Mrs. Powell—"

"Call me Fiona—"

"—since you are not family, we will need your consent to have your memory modified in writing."

"—and I actually have wizard blood. I assume Remy told you…or perhaps he hasn't had the chance, now I think of it, but my maternal grandfather was a wizard, but Mum's a squib, and Pop's a Muggle, but even so I do know about Animagi."

"Okay," James said, "we can waive the memory modification on your part, Fiona."

"We might have to have you two stay the night, though," Lily added, looking at Petunia and Christophe, "one of the side effects of memory modification is that it is generally unwise to travel afterwards." After a brief demonstration of Sirius' ability to transform into a large dog, and some hemming and hawing over whether his size was abnormally large or not, and some quick on the spot research by James, Sirius' Animagus form was perfected, and the 'Hermione Safety Club' (Harry's term) went to bed, feeling that they may have finally found a start to getting the poor little girl to safety.

------

The following evening found Sirius lying hidden in a hedge that encompassed the Grangers' house. It was uncomfortable, hiding down there among the prickly bushes, but Sirius felt that he should be congratulated for his masterful hiding job, as none of the Grangers had seen him yet.

In his disguise, Sirius was normally a fair bit larger than he was now, but James had found a spell that shrunk his size down to that of an average Siberian husky, according to Christophe. Juliana and Harry had had fun mussing up his fur in order to help make him look like a stray. James had also found a spell that enabled one of Sirius' eyes to act like a camera, recording everything he saw to be used as evidence. It made his eyes mismatched colors, but Christophe had assured them that this was unusual, but not unheard of, in dogs. He further assured them that the mismatched eyes would make him look even more like a stray. Suddenly, Dr. Granger's voice came through the open dining room window.

"Hermione Elizabeth!" Sirius' fur stood on end and he winced at the cold commanding voice of Hermione's father, so much like his own father's voice. Sirius moved stealthily towards the open window so he could see in.

"Yes, father?" Hermione's soft, sweet voice said, barely audible through the street noise. Sirius noted the loveless, intimidating posture of Hermione's father, making him recall his mother, who was clearly in the same mold as Hermione's father. Hermione's mother, on the other hand, was in the same mold as Sirius' father: she was completely indifferent to the treatment of her daughter. Sirius' mother had often made completely inappropriate sexual gestures, conversation and advances on him as a child, and his father had never done a thing to suggest that his mother had been wrong, or lifted a finger to comfort the young Sirius, and he wondered if the bastard Dr. Granger had done, or worse, did the same to his daughter, even to the point of…Sirius wanted to rip the man apart, as dog or as man, it didn't matter. Dr. Granger spoke again and Sirius cocked an ear to listen.

"You are never to go to that school again, lest you see the boy or any of his family—" Sirius raised his hackles, but just managed to avoid growling out loud "—again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, father,"

"I think that I must be absolutely certain." And he slapped her hard across the face and both her wrists. It was all Sirius could do to keep from howling this time.

"Now, Hermione Elizabeth, listen carefully. Tomorrow, I shall find a tutor for you. Your mother has agreed to take the day off work to keep an eye on you. I will absolutely not tolerate anything less than absolute respect for your mother, and if I find that any time you have been a burden on her, or caused unwanted attention, we shall do again tonight as we did last night. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, father."

"Then I will be off."

"Have a good day, darling," Mrs. Granger said, bored, turning back to her gossip rag. Sirius noted with dark amusement that where James' mother, Grace, always read the wizarding newspaper over her husband Mark's shoulder, Hermione's mother read gossip rag magazines. Sirius had, from the day he met them, considered Grace and Mark Potter his rightful parents, and they had all but adopted him, and at that moment, Sirius swore that he would do the same for Hermione, regardless of the consequences.

The day, after the initial confrontation between Hermione and her father, had been relatively uneventful. Mrs. Granger and her daughter—though Sirius felt, like his wife, that she had lost the right to call herself Hermione's mother—avoided each other's company unless Wilma Granger had chores for Hermione to do, which she did not, and Hermione ended up having a relatively calm day, away from her father and the bullies at school, who were her principal tormentors.

Even though nothing particularly noteworthy happened that day, Sirius agreed to keep a vigilante eye on the Grangers' residence, keeping an eye out for anything that they could use to bring the Grangers to court, so the following day found Sirius again impersonating a dog to hide out in the Grangers' backyard. The first thing he noted was that it seemed that Dr. Granger had finally found a "tutor" for Hermione. He was a large, beefy man with hardly any neck and a great big purple face. On closer inspection, Sirius realized who it was, and he shivered. _Vernon Dursley_.

Yes, the wizarding world knew who he was, as his last victim, the twelve year old girl he had raped had been the granddaughter of an elderly, estranged wizard who had cut all ties with the magical world, save a close friendship with the man who was often regarded as the most powerful wizard alive, the headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one James and Lily Potter called their mentor, Albus Dumbledore. After hearing the news of his granddaughter's fate from his son Stan, the girl's father, M.G. Shunpike had told Dumbledore all about Dursley, who, like the Muggle government, passed on the warning to anyone and everyone he could. Automatically, it seemed, Sirius' ears again pricked up as very soft conversation drifted through the window.

"…so do what you like with her, but remember our agreement; this is part of your community service, so I want a full report on your parole officer's desk by exactly 8:00 tomorrow. I bribed him to not have a supervisor with you on the compromise that Wilma will keep an eye on you; which she will, but we can trust her. She doesn't like the girl any more than I do."

"Uh-huh," Vernon's reply suggested that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed by any means whatsoever.

"And before I forget, the girl is forbidden to use the bathroom, go to the house libraries or anything like that, and make sure she never sets foot outside the house, or actually _learns _anything. Understand?"

"Uh-huh."

_You won't have any trouble ensuring the poor thing remains ignorant, Dursley,_ Sirius thought angrily.

"Hermione Elizabeth! Your tutor is here. Please greet Monsieur Delcarmen; do you remember what I told you last night?"

"Yes, father," Hermione recited, sending another pang through Sirius' heart. However many times he heard her hurt, small yet still unbelievably sweet voice say those two words, it never ceased to twist his heart over and over and make his eyes prick uncomfortably. Dr. Granger slapped his daughter across her face almost as though it were a commonplace morning ritual, and, Sirius reflected sadly, it probably was, before standing up and telling the brute Dursley to immediately let him know if Hermione had done anything that he had said was forbidden of her, and walked out without another word to anyone. Sirius could not keep himself from whimpering piteously. Thank Merlin that the Grangers did not hear him, but some passersby on the sidewalk had, and had given the apparent sweet-tempered stray looks of pity.

All through the day, Sirius kept watch on Hermione, Dursley and Hermione's mother, his bewitched eye quite literally taking in all of their moves, but his mind was elsewhere. How could Dr. Granger be so cruel? And not just with Hermione. He had left without even saying goodbye to his wife, or gave any sort of recognition to her at all. When Sirius had first met Juliana Hart Potter, he had been so smitten with love that he had literally heard music in the air—he later learned that James and Remus had played an embarrassing trick at his expense—and had sworn from that moment forward that he would make sure that, were he to get Juliana Potter in his arms, there wouldn't be a day that went by when he didn't show, in some form or another, how much he loved her, and he had remained true to himself, making sure that he allowed enough time in the mornings before work for a shower, good breakfast, and to give the most important woman of his life a hug and a kiss and an "I love you so much" before leaving.

But Dr. Granger had not exhibited any of these traits. Did he love his family? Where another parent might demand that their child respect the other parent, they might do it because they couldn't understand why their child insulted their parent, and felt like maybe the other parent had been hurt by the child's words, but Dr. Granger seemed about as fond of his wife as he was of his daughter. Was he keeping them under his wing because they needed his protection, or was he trying to present himself as a normal man to society, while hiding his true abusive nature? Or was there another thing he was hiding? Nothing made any sense to Sirius, except how awful the Grangers were to their daughter and how Dr. Granger had willingly, it seemed, hired a convicted child molester to watch over the precious girl. And it was making Sirius' hair stand on end to watch what Dursley did with Hermione. Like her school bullies, he tried to drown her in the toilet, but gave up after she managed to be under for 45 minutes without going even slightly blue, beat her at random times for no reason at all and ordered her to wear clothes way too skimpy for a girl her age. Sirius' eyes were about as wide as a dog's eyes could be, but the worst was to come later.

Dursley was reading—or trying to anyway, as he was holding his book upside-down—and had forbidden Hermione to read, but had allowed her some crayons and a sheet of paper, and she had been drawing while he read. For a moment, the picture seemed almost normal, but then Hermione looked up shyly.

"Mr. Delcarmen, sir, excuse me, but I have to use the restroom," Hermione said quietly and politely—much too so in Sirius' opinion.

"Later," Dursley grunted, not taking his eyes off the book he wasn't reading. Hermione's eyes were pained, and Sirius could tell that she would not retort, regardless of how her heart felt, and it also looked like she _really_ had to go, and had probably already held it for quite some time. She fought her urges with all her might, but it was very much a loosing battle and she lost. When she realized what had happened, Hermione couldn't stop herself from crying. She was completely and utterly ashamed, embarrassed and a tad bit angry.

"Stop it…stop crying…shut it, girl…I…will you _stop_…**_shut up_!!**" Vernon said through gritted teeth. Suddenly, ropes shot out of nowhere and bound Dursley up, and though Hermione's streaming eyes widened in horror, it seemed that she had been embarrassed beyond the point of caring, and ran from the house, coming to a halt on the back porch, sobbing beyond misery, sitting on a lawn chair. Sirius' heart broke, and he didn't much care now about the fact that he had sworn to remain hidden, and he slowly approached Hermione, who had her face buried in her hands. He approached her and gently nudged her with his muzzle as softly as he could manage. Startled, she looked up.

"Oh, hello, doggie," she said, her voice congested and exhausted. "You had better go before dad gets home," she continued, "he doesn't like dogs." She felt where her pants were still very wet and hiccoughed miserably. "And apparently, he doesn't like me, either." She said to renewed sobs. Sirius gave her a comforting soft, low half-bark, half-whine and licked her face, and at that gesture, all the dams Hermione had built up through eight years of living in her own hell, broke. Her sobs doubled, as did her tears. Sirius was stunned. How could a skeletally thin, malnourished eight year old have so much water in her? She would have a splitting headache when she was done.

"Why don't my parents love me, doggie?" Hermione wept, "I never did anything bad to them…I mean…I am a bad girl, very, very bad, because I can do magic, but…I hate it, every day when I went to the park after school, I…saw parents who would actually play with their kids, and be around them, and buy them ice cream. I've never _had _ice cream! Mum's never cuddled me or comforted me, though I've wanted both like nothing else…" she paused to take in great shuddering breaths before continuing "…and dad's never protected me or saved me from the monsters in the closet…and everyone teases me…except that boy, Harry…he was so nice to me, and his family, too…that woman, Mrs. Black…she wanted me to call her by her first name…Juliana…it's such a pretty name…I loved her so much…I think she might have liked me…but I'm a bad, horrible, terrible girl and I don't deserve it, but is it too much to ask for someone to kiss me? I've never been kissed…I don't know how it feels even…to have a loving mother…" at that point, Hermione was overcome, and couldn't say another word, consumed as she was by her tears. Sirius couldn't help it, he cried too, or more like something between a whine and a howl, and nuzzled his head against Hermione's body as both of them, overwhelmed, fell asleep.

------

"GET OUT, MUTT!! GET!! G'WAN!!!" Sirius awoke to find himself looking down a double-barreled shotgun, the thumb of an irate Dr. Granger ready to cock the hammer. Rage flew through Sirius as never before, not even when he had finally run away from his own family. His eyes narrowed, his hackles raised, barring his teeth menacingly, and a growl formed in the deepest pit of his heart and escaped his mouth to frighten Goliath. He advanced on Dr. Granger, snarling and growling, gnashing his teeth to wake the dead. With satisfaction, he noted that Dr. Granger looked terrified.

"Now listen, mongrel, this gun's loaded, and I'm not afraid to use it, mark my words, I mean it!" Sirius gave two more staccato barks as menacing as he could make them, and turned tail and ran back to the bushes.

"GOOD RIDDANCE YOU FILTHY FLEABAG!!!" Dursley, who had been freed of his ropes and standing red-faced behind Dr. Granger, yelled. The latter, on the other hand, rounded on his daughter, pointing the still-loaded gun at her face.

"HERMIONE ELIZABETH, COME IN THE HOUSE THIS INSTANT!!" Thus saying, he grabbed a hold of Hermione's shirt and carried her into the house. Sirius still watched their every moved, but he was starting to wonder how much more he could take. Starting with his discovery of her pants, Dr. Granger began the worst night of beating ever.

What happened was one of those things where no one could ever describe what had happened, even eyewitness people, like Sirius. Dr. Granger started out; hitting Hermione in every place he could reach, joined by Dursley, trying to attack her where the doctor was not. Hermione's mother put every hair on Sirius' body on edge with a little _pas de deux _between herself and her daughter. She delicately ran her over-manicured, unusually sharp fingernails across Hermione's bruised cheeks with just enough force to make them bleed very lightly, and as they bled, kissed them in horrible mock kisses that Sirius did not need to feel to know that they were cold, unloving kisses, but Hermione, seeming to be in a state of only being about a third conscious, kissed her back, tears of gratitude streaming down her small face. The climax, however, came when the doctor carried her up to bed, Dursley trailing behind. He beat her up a bit more, getting more and more ferocious with every punch, causing wounds right down to her muscles to open up, giving the man pleasure it seemed, and then, he let Dursley belt her. He whipped her with even more ferocity than her father had ever done. By the time he was done with her, she was bleeding very badly.

"You are a very, very bad child. You must know your place in society, which is that you are unfit to live," he said to her as she lost consciousness.

It was the end for Sirius. All pretense was abandoned as he charged for the door the doctor had left open in his literally blind rage, and entered the house, ducking into the first room he saw to quietly change back into a man, and then waited quietly behind a door to the staircase for the doctor and Dursley to come down, and then quietly dashed upstairs into Hermione's room. When he saw her lying on her bed, terror such as he had never felt surged through her. To see her from a distance, one might think she was peacefully sleeping, but up close, Sirius could see that she was anything but peaceful, and for an instant, he even wondered if she was still alive. Blood was everywhere and her skin was torn in many places, exposing tissue and muscle, her eyes were open and vacant, making it difficult to ascertain whether she was conscious or not, and spittle was gently flowing from her half-open mouth, as she could not swallow.

He didn't think of it as kidnap. He didn't think of it as illegal in the Muggle world. Sirius Black didn't think at all in fact, he just scooped the tiny—for in her malnourished state, Hermione was quite small for eight—girl into his arms and ran. He didn't care how much noise he made, he didn't care if he ran out the back door, or the front, passing through the kitchen, displaying his plans for all the Grangers to see, he just ran. Ran away from the house, ran away from his hell, the hell he had grown up knowing, and so sharing with the unconscious child he held in his arms. He ran from his past, trying to take her away from hers. He ran away from his demons to protect her from hers. And he didn't stop until he was in front of Potter Manor.

------

James Potter opened the door and stepped back in horror.

"Dear sweet Merlin," he whispered, eyeing Sirius standing on the doorstep, tears streaming down his face, and the nearly lifeless form he held in his arms. Remus paled.

"No…no…dear lord, it's not possible!" He muttered.

"Lord help us," Fiona Powell whispered, crying. Lily and Petunia—who, along with her husband and Fiona, had decided to remain with the Potters and Blacks to support them in any way possible as they fought for Hermione's justice—were also crying, Lily trying to shield Harry, who was shaking violently as he tried hard, but to no avail, to stop his own tears. Like Remus, Christophe was pale and remained silent, looking at his feet.

But no one was as pale as Juliana Black, as she walked up to her husband and relieved him of Hermione. She did not cry, but her eyes held a world of pain.

"I don't care if it's legal or fucking illegal in either the Muggle or wizarding worlds," she said softly to Christophe, "Hermione is _my _daughter, and I will not allow Hermione Shea Black to go back to those people." She hugged the girl gently, kissing her everywhere, even in places caked with dry blood.

"She won't go back," Christophe pledged in a whisper, "I don't care if I loose my job over this. Family law is a fucking joke anyhow."

"I love you, Hermione, I love you so much, and we'll get you help right away. I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. I love you…daughter."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, by all means, a nice, cheery, lighthearted chapter to give you a break from all the heavy material of previous chapters, eh:P Hey, don't kill the messenger…I can promise that this chapter ends the heaviest material of the story, and though Hermione's past will never leave her, she will be slowly recovering. So stick with me, kid(s), we'll go places!!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

It had been two years since Sirius had taken Hermione away from her horrid parents, and she was now ten, much healthier and looking like a normal, happy ten year old, but her parents knew that she really was still very unhappy, constantly plagued by the ghosts of her past. So when Juliana walked by her adoptive daughter's bedroom that night, she wasn't entirely surprised to hear Hermione embarrassedly crying, and judging by the volume, trying to make it seem like she wasn't. Gently, Juliana opened the door and walked over to Hermione's bedside.

"Oh, hi, Mum," Hermione said, for that was what she called her now.

"What is it, Sunshine?" Juliana asked.

"N-nothing," Hermione said, "it's not important."

"It is to me," Juliana replied, gently pulling Hermione onto her lap and cuddling her. When she had been properly nourished by her new family, Hermione had grown quite a bit, but she was still quite small. Hermione's sobs became a little more pronounced in Juliana's arms.

"I can't explain it," Hermione said desperately.

"Try," Juliana encouraged

"I was dreaming about my other…mother and…and you…I know that she was my real mum, and that I was born out of her, but—" she sniffled and took a breath "—I never really, you know, loved her. Only you and Daddy ever treated me like…like I was…anything or anybody, but…I feel like I should love…_them_, but I can't, because I love you.…and Daddy," she said as an afterthought. Juliana stroked her hair, not knowing what to say.

------

_Two years earlier_

From the moment Sirius had arrived on the doorstep bearing the unconscious Hermione in his arms, Juliana knew it was risky to take Hermione directly to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, so she opted to call on the services of a very experienced caregiver who everyone had slated to go work for St. Mungo's ever since her graduation from Hogwarts school, but had instead become a stay at home mother.

"Hello, Juliana, how are you?" Molly Weasley asked, looking down at Juliana's face in her fireplace.

"Not well," Juliana responded, "we have a very sick child at home who needs immediate attention, and she can't be taken to St. Mungo's."

"Your child? But I thought you said that you and Sirius were unable to—"

"Please, Molly, this is urgent. It's also complicated, so I would appreciate it if you don't ask too many questions. I can fill you in more when you get here."

"Arthur's working late, so I'll have to bring Ronnie and Ginevra with me."

"I think Lil and Harry will be able to entertain them."

"All right, I'll be there," Molly said.

But when she got there, the situation was not at all to her liking.

"I…I'm very troubled, Juliana, by what you've done. Kidnap is not tolerated any more in our world than it is in the Muggle world."

"I thought you of all people could appreciate what Hermione had been living with and understand why we had to do this," Sirius replied edgily, "honestly, Molly, have I misjudged you? I thought raising healthy, happy children was your specialty!" Molly Weasley glared daggers at Sirius, who glared right back. Molly looked away from him and down at Hermione, who she had cleaned up and administered a sort of magical IV filled with water so that, for starters, she could get hydrated. She sighed.

"It's not that I like this; I hate to see an innocent child in this state, but I honestly think we should nurse her, and send her home." Lily and Juliana joined Sirius in glaring daggers at Mrs. Weasley.

"I got bad news for you, Molly," Lily said, "my brother-in-law already spoke to Hermione's parents' lawyers, and they relinquished care of Hermione to Jules and Sirius fairly easily. They even approved Jules changing her middle name. And even if they hadn't, I would advocate Jules adopting her anyway."

"I don't understand," James added, "I thought you had devoted your life to kids, as Padfoot said, so why are you suddenly supporting the type of parent that, as I recall, you denounced as the worst type of person alive?"

"For goodness sake, what is wrong with you all?!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, "It's not the abuse I support, but I don't support my best friends becoming outlaws!"

"Outlaws?!" Juliana cried, "For rightfully taking Hermione away from those horrid people?"

"I hardly think what you did was rightful—"

"Stop, everybody just stop!" Sirius snarled, "Look, Molly, Hermione is now Juliana's and my child, and we will not take her back to her…relations. We brought you here because you are the absolute best we know of to help nurse her back to health aside from a professional healer, and to have taken her directly to St. Mungo's would have been a bad move until Chris gets everything finalized. Now, we are capable of nursing Hermione by ourselves, so either you are in or you're out. We'd love your help, but if you can't look beyond your bloody morals, or can't keep any sense of confidentiality, by which I mean you won't breathe a word of this to anyone until later when everything's settled, you know where the fireplace is."

"You are aware my husband works tirelessly to stop people doing what you are doing, don't you?" Sirius nodded.

"I've cherished your friendship, Molly," Juliana said quietly, "and I think you are a good person, but right now, my daughter's health is more important to me than our friendship." Unbeknownst to anyone present, young Ronald Weasley had entered the room.

"They're right, Mum," he said, sounding unsure if he was out of line or not, "we can't let her die."

"Hermione won't die, love," Mrs. Weasley said comfortingly to Ron.

"She might if we don't help her," Ron argued, "I think she's nice." Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley's eyes pooled with tears.

"All right," she said, "I'll help, and you have my utmost confidentiality, Sirius. I…I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me. If that had been Ginny in Hermione's place, I would have done what you did. Of course I'll help."

With Mrs. Weasley's assistance, Hermione was soon recovered enough – after three days – that her new parents felt they could take her to St. Mungo's to get the "final touches", and soon, after nearly three weeks of rest and loving care from Juliana and Sirius, Hermione was back on her feet.

The experience, for Hermione, made 'surreal' and 'confusing' understatements. It was too good to be true, and though everyone assured her that Juliana and Sirius had adopted her, and her new mother and father, aunt, uncles (Lupin was always as good as an uncle to Harry, and Hermione soon found that she felt that way too), cousin and even the Weasleys all gave her more love and attention in a few weeks then she had received in all her prior eight years of life, but even so, she found herself, at a quarter to three, the time her biological parents had said was her curfew to be in the house and no questions, she would start to wonder if her father would come in, grab her and leave, taking her back to her hellish life, but he never did. It also took her some time to feel comfortable to call Juliana and Sirius 'mum' and 'dad', James 'uncle', Lily 'aunt' and so fourth. She had been very embarrassed that Juliana and Sirius had taken her with them to a family counselor at St. Mungo's.

"Don't be ashamed," Juliana had said, "we're not doing this because we think you did something wrong or anything like that, and don't feel guilty or embarrassed; you are not at fault for anything. This is a new and strange experience for me and your father too. We just hope that Healer Goldman can help us sort everything out." Thus saying, she kissed Hermione softly on the head. Moreover, Juliana had been quite right, and after some gentle questions and suggestions from Dr. Goldman – her mother had called him 'Healer' for some reason – she had become comfortable to start seeing Juliana and Sirius as her new mother and father, and her love that she had secretly cherished ever since she first met them, grew and there was no looking back.

------

As the child of Muggles, Lily liked to play around with Muggle devices that could be manipulated to work in the magical world. To avoid trouble with the Ministry, she had restricted her experiments to devices that the magical world did not have suitable alternatives. One such device had been a video camera Lily owned, which she had put to good use, like any sane aunt, to film her new niece. All of the family, but especially Juliana and Sirius loved to watch the films Lily had made over and over again.

Juliana's favorite was one that had been made soon after Hermione had become well and had accepted her new family. Remembering what he had heard Hermione confess as a dog, Sirius immediately decided to take her for a day on the town, inviting Harry, James and Lily to come along. Lily, of course, brought her camera. First they stopped at the park, and the camera followed Sirius chasing Hermione all around the playground, laughing and tossing his favorite little girl in the air, smiling at her delight. Afterward, Juliana pushed Hermione on the swings, and after a few minutes of enjoying and loving her daughter, the two hugged, both sobbing with delight, sadness, confusion, love…

The next stop was the one Hermione never forgot, for Sirius had treated her with her very first ice cream. By that time, Hermione had shed all her tears, and only a joyful eight year old remained. When she had realized Lily was filming her, she turned to the camera, all smiles, ice cream all over her mouth and nose, dripping down onto her shirt as she munched on the last bit of the cone. It had made Sirius, James and Lily laugh to see how eagerly Hermione shared her ice cream with Harry, but Juliana was deeply moved as she realized how deprived of friendship Hermione had been, and how she was so happy to finally have such basic interaction with another being as to share something, which her biological parents would have surely forbidden, all in the name of "normal". How was depriving such a selfless, loving being from one of a human's most basic needs any bit "normal"?

The final stop that day had not been filmed, but even so, Juliana at least, knew she would never forget that part of that very memorable day. She had taken Hermione to the department store, so that Hermione could get a whole new wardrobe. Not liking shopping the way Lily or Juliana did, Harry, James and Sirius asked Hermione if it would be all right if they went a couple doors down to a video game store. All three guys had fallen in love with the Muggle invention of video games, and Harry was particularly talented at them, but Sirius wasn't far off. Hermione said that was okay with her as long as they would leave some time for her to look at the games too. Hermione had been delighted when Juliana had let her loose to pick out her own clothing. Hermione had at least looked at everything, and tried on mounds of different stuff, but in the end, hadn't bought much. Though she had thought it was a bit too girly even for her, she had ended up buying various pink clothes, some that even had hearts on them, though it was, in part, on Juliana's urges that she did so. She also let Juliana and Lily pick out her underwear. Not being a video game person, once she had finished with her clothes, Hermione asked Harry to show her around, allowing him to explain how video games worked, and which ones he thought were good.

"I like having you as my cousin, Hermione," Harry said shyly as the group made their way home. He blushed and looked down, embarrassed as Hermione, Juliana and Lily all beamed at him. Both Juliana and Lily had lumps in their throats, and Juliana's eyes welled up.

"That's m'boy!" James said heartily.

"We all love you, Hermione," Sirius said seriously, looking at her, "and we always will. Don't ever forget that, and don't be shy if you ever need us. If you ever feel lonely, or just want to talk to someone, you are always welcome to find your mother or myself, not to mention Prongs, Harry, or Lils, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," Hermione said, beaming. Sirius pulled her close and held her in a gentle father-cuddle, as he would call it later. Hermione's lip trembled and she sniffled, and Sirius doubled the force of his embrace, letting her bury her head in his chest, where, for the first time, Hermione actually felt safe.

------

_Present_

"Don't forget, tomorrow's your birthday," Juliana said quietly while Hermione dozed. As she fell completely asleep, she grinned a bit.

Though it wasn't actually her birthday – and when Juliana and Sirius adopted her, they did not change the actual date – everyone agreed that they could celebrate early, and usually celebrated her birthday a week after Harry's, and this year, as she would be turning eleven, it was even more exciting and important as she would no doubt be getting her Hogwarts letter.

After Hermione's adoption, Juliana and Sirius had told her all about the magical world to which she now belonged, with the help of Johann Straub, Jr. the healer whose job it was to ease the doubts of a Muggleborn witch or wizard and their parents and help answer any questions either party had. Straub's father had been the one to counsel Lily and her family when she was accepted to Hogwarts, and now, Hermione was every bit as excited about going to Hogwarts as Harry was.

"Happy early birthday sweetheart!" Juliana said as Hermione came down into the living room of Potter Manor (Sirius and Juliana shared the place with James and Lily). Sirius hugged her in a special way that he said was for her birthdays alone.

Hermione's presents had been good. From Harry, she had gotten a video game he noticed her eyeing with – Harry assumed to be – particular fondness, from James and Lily, she got an old leather, hardbound copy of five of Shakespeare's greatest plays, to her surprise, the Weasleys sent her a book on the history of the development of magical talents in nonmagical people, and Lupin and Ms. Powell had gotten her a t-shirt that read _The Weird Sisters_ on the front. No one had missed the fondness Hermione had displayed for their music when she had walked in on James playing one of their albums – the magical world was still a good ten years behind the Muggle world in latest developments in musical recording devices, and were still cranking out LPs and 78s, even though in the Muggle world, compact discs (CDs) were becoming all the rage.

Though she loved every gift she got for her birthdays and Christmas from her family and friends, Hermione always – and wouldn't tell anyone this, for fear of appearing ungrateful – cherished her parents' gifts, be it big and expensive, or just a card with a picture drawn by her father and loving words penned in her mother's neat hand, more than anything else, perhaps because even before she became Hermione Shea Black, she received presents in secret from her birth grandfathers, both of whom had been absolutely appalled by their children's childrearing practices, widowers and both were very fond of Hermione. Her paternal grandfather, Admiral Edward Granger, formerly of the British Navy, had been a natural born storyteller and had been the one to install Hermione's love of books in her, while his friend Owen Boulstridge, a shipbuilder out of Poole would take Hermione from her parents for half a month, on the (lie) promise that he would uphold their standards of strictness where Hermione was concerned, where he actually invited the Admiral over, and the three would go on all sorts of wild adventures – usually involving boats somehow – together. But did the son of Admiral Granger and the daughter of Sir Owen, one of the most respected and competent shipbuilders in all of the United Kingdom, ever get their daughter a single gift? No, which was why Hermione cherished the gifts from her adoptive parents so much, and this year's gift was one that Hermione knew she would cherish forever. It was a letter, but not from Sirius or Juliana, but rather, Owen Boulstridge, inviting her and her new parents to come out to Poole.

_My favorite Granddaughter,_

_I was very, very shocked to hear from my daughter that she and her husband have let another couple adopt you, and ashamed to hear how gleefully she said that she had given you to another's care, and how she sneered at the fact that, as I understand it, the couple who adopted you, have been unsuccessful at any attempt thus far at conception. Your great-aunt, my sister, thinks that one or both of your parents should be checked for infertility – of course, if I were your new father and suspected something like that, I wouldn't want to know!_

_Anyway, the reason that I am writing is that I truly hope that your new family is treating you well, and extend an invitation to you and your mother and father to come out here so we can meet. I have invited Ed as well, and I have no doubt he will come too._

_I hope this letter arrives in time for your birthday, for this is my birthday present to you, and I hope to see you in Poole._

_Your grandfather,_

_Owen Boulstridge _

"Can we go?" Hermione asked delightedly as soon as she had finished reading.

"Of course," Juliana replied, chuckling.

"I already arranged everything," Sirius added, putting a hand on his wife's shoulders. Leaning in to her ear he said in a whisper, "and I think Mr. Boulstridge's sister must be a nurse, I think they're called and you know, she's right. I suppose you and I had better make appointments with the family Healer."

The next day, the Blacks prepared to depart for three days in Poole.

"We're going to miss you, Hermione," James said smiling, "but you need to spend time with your family."

And after a drive that took almost the whole day, the three arrived at the fancy house belonging to Owen Boulstridge. With Hermione and Juliana following, Hermione holding Juliana's hand, Sirius approached the door and knocked. Owen Boulstridge answered. He was a man hitting the other side of his seventies and was a little stooped, and his hands reflected a lifetime of building boats, and despite his age, his muscles were still very strong and his energy was still very prominent, however, he was beginning to gain weight. He stood a good foot and a half shorter than Sirius, but as he beckoned them in, his renowned kindly, but forceful personality overshadowed his small stature, and he heartily slapped Sirius on the shoulder as he led them into the parlor.

"So good to finally meet you," he was saying to Sirius as they walked, side by side, Sirius marginally uncomfortable, "I am really, really honored. Ed and I were just saying…" Edward Granger may have been a storyteller, Juliana reflected, but Owen Boulstridge was the embodiment of a socialite, bourgeois man, determined to make the best possible impression on his friends. Once in the parlor, Owen introduced them to Edward Granger.

Edward Granger was what Owen was not. Where Owen was shorter than Sirius, Edward was taller, wry, but built on a sturdy frame, and seemed very steady and grounded, both in his stance and behavior, and as Owen had not lost his muscle from his working days, Edward had not lost his resourcefulness, and he remained a bit cooler then Owen as he shook Sirius' hand and politely embraced Juliana, but when he spoke, he very much echoed Owen's sentiments about finally meeting them.

"Of course I care very much for my son, but I have never approved of how he treated my granddaughter, and I am very happy she could be put in your care," he said.

The rest of the day was spent engaging in various activities. First, there was a light luncheon put on by Owen's household staff, and then Owen insisted he take them out in a new model launch his company's engineers just turned out.

"Just came out," he said proudly and pompously, "we call it the Stingray. Built for speed, it's got a 120-horsepower motor there and can go just about as fast as you like!" They ended up spending a few hours tooling around the bay with some juice that Owen had seen fit to bring along, while Edward displayed his abilities telling a story that was half-true, half-fiction about his experience with whalers while he was stationed in Greenland and Newfoundland while he served his time in the Navy. When they got back, they had some light pre-dinner refreshments in the parlor, while Juliana eyed the piano.

"May I?" she asked Owen. He indicated that she might try, and she treated them to a round of entertaining music.

"I had no idea you could play, my dear," Edward said, "that was very good playing."

"Thank you," Juliana said, "my sister-in-law's mother taught me. She was a concert pianist."

"Who was she?"

"Jeanine Evans."

"No! Not Jeanine Evans?!" Owen asked, shocked. Juliana nodded. Owen walked over to where he kept his records, and walked back with a whole stack of records of various piano works. "I have never heard anyone play Bach like Mrs. Evans," Owen said reverently.

"Or Beethoven," Edward added. Juliana and Sirius shared a grin. Just then, Perry Wilkinson, the butler, came in.

"Your dinner is ready, milord," he said formally.

"Thank you, Mr. Wilkinson," Owen replied. Dinner was a delicious, but gut busting affair. The meal was roast lamb with all sorts of side dishes, more than Juliana or Sirius had seen before, even when they were visiting the Weasleys, accompanied by some delicious Port wine, while Hermione had cranberry juice. Juliana, however asked if her drink might be changed to be the same as her daughter's. Owen looked shocked at first, then nodded approvingly, yet Juliana could tell by his eyes that he would have given anything to have his own daughter be in Juliana's spot, and she could also tell that, regardless of how he and Edward treated her and Sirius, they were also very saddened by the fact that their own children had turned out to be such lousy parents, and were probably much more disappointed then they were letting on.

After dinner, Owen told them that he had only three guest rooms, and that Edward already had one of them, and he showed them the vacant ones. They were adjoining, but there was only one bed in each, though both were queen sized.

"I'm terribly sorry that we could not put you all in one room," Owen said.

"It's okay," Juliana replied calmly, "I wanted to sleep with Hermione anyway," she said, putting her hand on Hermione's soft, bushy hair. "I hope that's okay, love," she added, turning to Sirius. Judging by his face, he would have preferred to sleep with Juliana, but nevertheless he said,

"Sure. That'll be no problem."

"Then, in that case, I want to go to bed. Are you ready, Hermione?" she nodded. "Good night, Owen, Edward. It was a real pleasure to meet you."

"If it's all right, I'd like to stay up a bit longer," Sirius said. Juliana shrugged.

"Okay, love. Good night then."

"Good night, sweetheart, 'Night, Furball," he said to Hermione.

"Meow!" Hermione responded, jumping into Sirius' arms.

"Woof!" Sirius responded, hugging her. Owen and Edward laughed. They were, as Juliana had thought, very disappointed, and though the visit had been painful for them, they could not deny that they had enjoyed the changes that had come over their beloved granddaughter.

Back in the bedroom, Hermione and Juliana were getting ready for bed. Both of them had changed into their pajamas and brushed their teeth. Hermione was sitting in front of a makeup desk with a gorgeous Victorian mirror atop it, while Juliana gently and lovingly brushed her hair.

"Mum," Hermione said, observing herself in the mirror, "why did you decide to love me?" Juliana ran the hairbrush through Hermione's hair slowly a couple more times, then put the brush down, tucking strands behind Hermione's ears.

"I don't think it was a choice," Juliana said thoughtfully, "I just saw you that night James and Lily invited your other parents over to dinner, and…I don't know…you were so shy, and you were trying so hard not to be noticed…I don't know how to describe why, or how, I started to feel the way I did about you, but…I can't really explain it, but I guess somehow I knew you didn't get much affection at all, and I never did, nor will I ever understand why, because I just…just saw something in you…"

"My magic?"

"No. Good heavens, no. It was your heart, I think. Somehow, through thick and thin, you had a good, loving and unselfish heart, and I wanted so much to be the one who gave you the affection you weren't getting from anyone else and nurture you because you deserve nothing less."

"Do you still love me?"

"Hermione," Juliana said, stepping in front of Hermione's chair, and cradling Hermione's cheeks in her palms, "I will always love you. Now come on, let's get in bed. I'm tired." She extended her hand to Hermione and walked side by side with her to the bed and got in.

"Snuggle up to me, Hermione," Juliana said softly. Hermione did so, cherishing every minute of the embrace. Yes, it felt childish, but Hermione didn't really care. Her mother's love meant the world to her, and she could never say it enough. Never. Harry would later tease her that she was making up for lost time right up until she went to Hogwarts, but in that moment, Hermione didn't see it as anything except that she finally had someone to share her secrets to, someone to make her feel like someone, care for her, cherish her company with, guide her as she grew older…but how did she put that into words?

"Good night, mum. I love you so much."

"Good night, Sunshine, I love you so much, too." Hermione wondered if her mother's soft, warm kisses would always leave that lump in her throat, making her want to cry with joy as she eagerly returned the gesture as she fell asleep.

Sirius had ended up spending another hour awake, chatting amicably with Owen and Edward, and had finally gone to bed, stopping first at his wife and daughter's room. Gently, like any father checking in on his child, he opened the door. His two favorite women cuddled up like that, innocently asleep and in such obvious love brought a wide smile to his face. But, he thought as he pulled his own covers over himself, how in the world were he and Juliana to survive sending Hermione off to Hogwarts?


End file.
